Waking Up In Paris
by riseru-kun
Summary: Tony and Ziva spend a day in Paris for their mission but the assignment is still a few hours away and with Gibbs in another country, the rules don't apply...or do they?


Waking Up in Paris - Prologue

Waking up with a hangover is never pleasant. With all the training in Mossad you'd think that a hangover is nothing. Well, you're wrong. Being used to the pain of cuts, bruises and broken bones would never mean that a hangover is one of Ziva's favourite moments, mainly because it meant she had lost control and drank more than she could take. Mossad never trained her how to deal with hangovers mainly because they made it clear that drinking, while useful for cover in a mission, is a matter of life and death considering how it causes a person to be disoriented. That and the fact that Ziva rarely gets drunk no matter how much she drinks is now causing her unease. She drank too much, why?

Her head throbbed painfully, she felt dizzy and disoriented. She tried opening her eyes, no such luck. The curtains were left open and the light from the sun rising burned against her eyes the moment she opened them making her squeeze them shut before seeing anything else. From what she can gather, she's in a hotel somewhere, if the scent of the bed was any clue.

The scent, there was something off...besides her clothes. _Oh god. _So that's what happened last night.

She shouldn't have done this. She's better than this but, for god's sake, she is in _Paris. _

She sighed. Regardless of the location she should have been focused. She is on a mission after all. Oh no, she's on a mission. In Paris. With Tony. Where is he?

What would he think?

_Stop it Ziva, you've been on this train of thought before and you know it never ends well._

She remembered Tony taking her out last night. ..

"_It's not everyday we get to see Paris" _He said as he took a picture after another.

She didn't approve of his actions but they were only here to escort a valuable witness which wasn't any time soon. She agreed, albeit reluctantly. They toured for a while, bought little things for McGee and Abby then they decided to go to a bar before retiring for the night and she met this man. Italian, with eyes whose color was like Tony's. She remembered how he approached her and how Tony made a few remarks obviously to piss the guy off and make him go away only to be ignored.

Another confusing thing, Tony was being difficult again. She loved this play with Tony how she'd rile him up in the same way he would to her but they both know that there was a limit and yet Tony just had to be Tony and confuse Ziva whether to kill him or fuck him in that elevator.

That's not important now. The first thing she needs now is the identity of the person beside her, then the time and location. Did she go with the guy from the bar last night? She knew what she did was unprofessional. She is in the middle of a mission. She would have an earful from Tony when they meet, that's for sure but what she was not looking forward to are the flashes of hurt in Tony's eyes whenever she was with someone else. They both knew why they couldn't be together but it doesn't make it less painful.

She heard a groan from beside her which made her tense. Should she open her eyes now? No need, her hearing can very well alert her if there's any danger. She was at least aware enough to make sure that this man is a civilian. She thought very hard, where her things might be, her weapons. There was a movement from her left and the next thing she knew an arm was draped on her back, stroking her spine once, twice then settling on her lower back.

She buried her face in her pillow. That hand. She remembered how that very hand held her sometimes tight and other times comfortingly. She remembered the feeling of being held by this man. She shouldn't feel guilty, it's not like she had vowed and bounded herself to Tony. _Stop it Ziva._

And she has needs, from what she can remember there was so much pleasure last night to even feel guilty. She needed this. The man beside her only gave what Ziva deserved after sleepless nights working behind that goddamn desk constantly frustrated by Tony in many ways. And it was clear how the man beside her knew exactly how to give...and to take.

It wasn't Tony's business anyway who she decides to sleep with. _Just as it isn't her business who Tony decides to sleep with._

She lifts her face from the pillow and glances to her right. The clock read 8:14 in the morning. The flight was in a few hours and she still has to meet up with Tony. For a moment she thought of just leaving the man beside her who she is yet identify. She could probably do that since she won't be returning to Paris soon anyways but the way the man held her last night. There was so much passion but there was also so much..._love_.

What was the deal with this guy? Something about last night is preventing Ziva from leaving this man. They weren't just fucking or anything along those lines, they made love. And it was wrong. She just met this man but the emotions from last night, _fuck_. She couldn't do this, not when this guy had Tony's eyes. Not when, if she would know him, he'd constantly remind her what she always wanted but couldn't have.

There was movement once again, and from what she could guess, the man was sitting up.

"Bonjour, hey look I don't speak French but if you could understand me, I have to go, my partner's waiting and she's going all ninja on me if I'm late"

Her head snaps up at the all too familiar voice and looks straight into the eyes of Tony Dinozzo.

"Ziva?"

_Fuck._


End file.
